


Blushed

by haroldandlewis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Comedy, Heartfelt, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haroldandlewis/pseuds/haroldandlewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis knows all about color pallets, the different tones of skin and exactly the right amount of blush to put on cheeks to make them glow just right. Harry knows all about the runway; every step, pivot and glide, they all matter equally to put on a good show. The odds that Harry's original make-up artist quit right before the most important show of the year, right when Louis needed cash after the salon let him go, are a one-in-a-million chance. But, sometimes bad things happen so better things can fill its place and sometimes a pale, dimpled face needs a little bit of a blush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blushed

**Author's Note:**

> make-up artist!louis and model!harry au. niall is the showcase director, the guy who sends each model out on the runway at the right times. zayn distributes the right outfits to the right models and liam does hair right along side louis. romance ensues. inspired by a tumblr post. http://cometolouis.tumblr.com/post/50096403741/excuse-me-why-isnt-there-a-make-up

Louis payed the cabbie after thanking him, just before stepping onto the busy pavement when he got out of the small yellow car. He loved the way people buzzed around this city and how busy it was no matter what time of day. It made him feel high in a way that drugs couldn't pursue. At nearly half three in the morning you'll still find a swarm of people trying to get from place to place, from one end of London to the next. Everyone had a purpose and these cement walkways brought them there. Driving was too much of a hassle unless you called out a cab and walking just made things so much simpler, so much more realistic. 

He slung his black leather bag over his shoulder and stood at the edge of the sidewalk for a moment, just taking in the fresh (well, maybe not fresh...pollution) air one last time before his nerves could get the better of him, making him stunt his breathing patterns. Louis was on his way to his first day at his new job. But, he didn't like to think of it as a job, more as a passion for something he got such a rush doing. 

It all started at a young age, when Louis first saw his mum put on make-up. Usually she already had it on, or Louis was just too busy being a twelve year old boy to care. But, like most little boys, Louis got in trouble, causing him to have to follow his mother around for the entire day, attached at her hip with no where to go but where she led him. He wasn't happy about this, mostly because all he wanted to do was go out to the parks and play footie with his friends like he did every weekend. It had to be done, though, else Jay said for every time Louis was out of her sight, Louis'd have to follow her around for an extra day. He wasn't going to risk this, so following his mum around he went. And like most mothers, Jay figured the perfect way to torture her child was to take him to the shops and make him sit there as she spent hours trying on clothes that she couldn't afford and wouldn't dare buy. 

It was when Louis was sitting on her bed that he watched ever so carefully the way she applied the foundation to her skin and the mascara to her eyelashes and the blush to her cheeks. He was so intrigued by the way the colors blended and made her face look so smooth and so different than it looked just minutes prior to the application. Louis got up from the bed and walked over to the small mirror that Jay was sitting in front of and watched every move she made. When she noticed, it confused her; even her daughters weren't that interested in beauty at the time, granted they were still so young at the time. 

"What's up, Lou?" She asked, curious eyes roaming over her sons astounded face as she rubbed the cream over her skin more, blending in the colors to make it unnoticeable. 

Louis placed his hand on his cheek and his fingers grazed the upper bone. His mother wanted to laugh, but held it in before she could let her giggles spill out. "What are you putting on your face, mum?" He asked, voice small and quiet, almost embarrassed to be asking such a question, or to even be wondering about it. 

She just smiled at her little boy as she explained to him what foundation was and what it was used for. He asked many more questions about all the other different types of make-up displayed on her small table and she answered every single one of them with a smile and a small giggle in between. Louis was happy, nonetheless, because he just thought 'wow that's amazing' because he didn't really known how make-up worked. It was like paint, he thought. When you want to cover up an old color on your walls, you paint over it with a brand new color that you want. When you don't like how your face looks one day or have a blemish or two to cover up, you can just apply make-up. He wondered why boy's didn't use make-up too, but realized it seemed a little funny when his mother explained why it was mostly for girls.

Since then Louis was interested in make-up. He found it had all sorts of different meanings and purposes and it was just so scientific and so simple at the same time. In college he found himself complimenting some girls on their make-up skills, and some he really just wanted to take a brush and a pallet and help them fix the ungodly creation they plastered on their poor faces. Sure, people thought it was quite camp of him, but Louis didn't really mind. He knew deep inside that there was nothing weird about being into something and liking make-up was no different. Some days he even found himself doing a few of his lady friend's faces, practicing on how to use the different types and brands and figuring out which style looked best on which girl. They loved it, really. For some girls make-up was a hassle and having Louis around to either do it for you or take you to pick up a new lip gloss or help you decide if Mac of Sephora was a better choice was always a pleasant thing. In uni, Louis even found himself studying beauty and fashion because, yes, he loved it that much.

And that's what brought Louis to be standing outside of the Manuel-Circa studio. A few weeks ago he was standing in this very spot for an interview just after being let off of the last job he had. He used to work in a small salon boutique called Ravens, but they let him go when not too many demands for a male make-up artist were occurring. Louis was mad, but only for a short amount of time when his old friend, Zayn, from uni told him about a job opening along side him. 

Zayn loved fashion more than the average male. He knew the cut, the stitch count and the exact fabric of every clothing item you put in front of him. Uni was like an everyday party for him, especially when projects came up for having to create your own design; Zayn was right on it and achieved top marks on every assignment. Fashion was in his blood, and that's what got him into Manuel-Circa while Louis was stuck at Ravens. Zayn wasn't quite at the stage of creating his own fashion design label just yet. He didn't get to make the clothes he worked with, but what he got to do was second best. Manuel-Circa is home of these models called 'Teenage Runaways', the most famous of all the models that are apart of the entire company. Zayn's job is to pick which outfits fit which model and hand off accessories he thought worked best for the outfit. He loved his job and he loved Louis, and Louis just hoped the Manuel-Circa family loved him just as much.

Louis finally made his way into the building, trying not to get in the way of the fast-walking employees and a few scattered models trying to find what clothes they needed to try on next. He loved the busy atmosphere and the loud people hustling about, trying to get done what they needed to get done. He's glad he's apart of this life now, it's only been his absolute dream for ages now. After a few careful strides, he was at the front desk where papers were thrown about and a young girl, Pamela he think he remembers her name to be, just getting off the phone while running a hand through her messy, exhausted hair. 

"Louis! Thank god you're here! As you can tell, we could probably use an extra set of hands around here right about now. Things are a bit hectic, you see. " Pamela said, voice slightly out of breath and cheeks looking just a bit flushed. Louis thinks she could use just a dab of bronzer on her pale skin, but he's not about to tell her that. 

"Yeah, it does look a tad bit rowdy in here. Where do you want me?" He asked, adjusting his bag strap on his shoulder when a large man skimmed it while running by quickly asking 'where the fuck his measuring tape went'. Louis wants to tell him to pull it out of his ass, but he decides against it, for his first day at least. 

Pamela got up from her chair while telling the boy next to her to keep an ear out for the phone line and asked for Louis to follow her. He nodded and kept quickly on her toes. Its clear that Pamela knows how to move around Manuel-Circa's quickly and efficiently without getting your head pulled off from getting into someones way. They walked for only a short time before reaching a large white door in the back of the studio, where Louis assumed he'd be spending most of his time from now on. 

She swung open the door and flew in quickly, Louis right on her heels. The first thing Louis saw when he opened the door was mirrors, and plenty of them. Every mirror was accompanied with a rectangular table full of make-u of different brands and shades and textures and basically heaven for Louis. They each had a small directors-looking chair placed in front of the mirror and a model sitting in just about each one of them. In the back Louis could see racks full of different clothes and shelves full of shoes. In Louis' mind he's scared, but in his heart he know's he's going to love this job. 

They stopped right in front of one of the mirror/chair sets that was left empty and Pamela rested her elbow on the wooden part of the chair. "This," She pointed to the set to the side of them, "is going to be your home for the duration of the time you'll be working here, which is completely up to you, unless you do something wrong, of course."

Louis nodded and allowed Pamela to continue, taking his bag off his shoulder and placing it on the directors chair. "Each make-up artist gets assigned two models, and those are the two and only people you'll be doing make-up on, okay?" Louis nods. "One of them should be here shortly, actually. But anyway, all you're in charge of is make-up. You'll get a boy and a girl, now you don't need to go too crazy on the make-up for the lad but of course you can do what you think works best for her. You may want to take the outfits into consideration before you go on to do anything, but I'm sure you're smart enough to know that. Actually, I think the bloke in charge of your models clothing is your pal Zayn, so you should be fine. Any questions, love?" 

Louis let all of Pamela's words sink in, because boy it was definitely a mouthful. He was more nervous now that he was before, but relieved because he wasn't in charge of too many people's faces. He'd be stressing balls if he had to remember who needed blue eye shadow and who was allergic to Mac foundation. "Yeah, okay. Who are my models?" He asked, fixing his quiff a bit when he caught sight of his hair in the mirror. 

Pamela pulled a small piece of paper out of her back pocket, "Kennedy Gammor and Harry Styles. Oh, looks like your first model has just arrived, actually." She said, pointing to the white door we entered through as a tall figure made his way through. 

Louis quite literally had to keep his jaw from dropping when he finally caught complete sight of the model making his way in. He was tall, so tall, he had mile long legs and a torso for ages. His jeans clung to him like they were painted on his body and a Ramones shirt hung loosely on his upper half. The curls on his head stood tall in a quiff that Louis didn't really think worked for him, but he still had beautiful hair nonetheless. Louis could see the dimples when Harry turned to smile at a boy that clapped him on the back. Yes, he was definitely a model and Louis was definitely in heaven. 

Harry made his way towards the two with a smile on his face, placing his forearm on Pamela's shoulder for support. "Pammy, my love. How's it goin'?" He said with a chipper voice, dimples on full display as he looked down at Pamela's small frame. 

"It's Pamela to you, curly. It's going quite alright. Oh, by the way, this is your new make-up artist." Pamela pointed towards Louis, causing the dimple-faced boy to look his way. Louis wanted to scream at and thank Pamela at the same time, he just didn't know what he wanted to do more. 

"Louis Tomlinson," Louis stated, holding a hand out for Harry to shake. 

"Harry Styles," He replied, reaching to grab Louis' hand and shake. 

They shared an awkward hand shake and smile before quickly letting go. Louis stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them occupied. He usually has a habit of playing with his hair when he's in an awkward situation, but he's afraid he's going to mess it up when everyone's hair is so pretty. 

"I'm glad you're here, actually. My last make-up artist did a rubbish job and quit on me at the worst time. The Burberry fashion show is in about three weeks time, you know. We're gonna need you." Harry smiled, releasing his weight from Pamela's shoulder when one of the stylists called her over. 

"Well I hope my make-up skills meet your standards, Harry." Louis grabbed his bag to open it, pulling out a few pictures of past clients he's done over, even a few pictures his sisters when they've wanted to play dress up. Louis is always the first person they call for school dances or picture days. He passed the pictures to Harry and he examined them carefully.

"These are really good, Louis Tomlinson. It's a pleasure to be doing business with you." He said, passing the pictures back to Louis with a smile. Louis hoped that his tanned skin covered his blush enough to avoid embarrassment. 

He put the pictures back in his bag, making sure they didn't get crushed. "So, do you know what outfit you're trying on so I know how to do your make-up or and I just doing a free for all?"

"Ah, actually I'm off today. Just came to pick up my paycheck and decided to come in the back to say hi to Pammy. Kennedy should be here in a few, though. I'm in tomorrow, 'salright?" 

"Oh, yes, of course. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow, Louis." Harry said, waving goodbye with his large hands, turning away to walk out the big white door. 

Louis took a seat in the directors chair and let in a large breath. The atmosphere was filled with chaos but right now all he could thing about was the massive amount o products in front of him and how badly he want's to color that beautiful pale skin that is Harry Styles.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think? now, i don't know too much about make-up because i don't wear any (yea i know poor excuse of a 17 year old girl) but i'm willing to look into it. follow my tumblr? harrytomlinsob.tumblr.com (:


End file.
